When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 131 Actually, I also look forward to the applause from the Bernabéu fans.
Inside UEFA headquarters in Nyon, Switzerland, media cameras were pointed at the transparent glass tank used for the draw.

UEFA General Secretary Johansson stood at the front of the stage, next to special guest, French football legend Papin.

"First, confirm the list of the top eight."

The host read out, "La Liga representatives: Real Madrid, Deportivo La Coruña; Premier League representatives: Arsenal, Chelsea; Serie A representative: AC Milan; Ligue 1 representatives: Monaco, Lyon; Primeira Liga representative: Porto."

Beside the glass tank, UEFA Competitions Director Marchetti began to operate: "Please draw the four quarter-final matchups first."

The draw officially began, and UEFA Competitions Director Marchetti reached his hand into the glass tank: "Group One."

He slowly unfolded the ball, "Porto!"

The Portuguese press box immediately stirred, and a reporter from A Bola quickly dialed the editorial office.

Marchetti continued the draw: "Their opponent is Lyon!"

Cheers erupted in the French media section, and a reporter from France Football even whistled.

The camera captured the reactions of the two managers – Mourinho sat with his arms crossed and a confident smile, while Lyon manager Le Guen loosened his tie with a sigh of relief.

This is the best possible draw result for both sides.

This matchup means: Ligue 1 will avoid an internal conflict, the "second-tier powerhouses" of Portugal and France will have a good opportunity to break through, and a non-traditional powerhouse will be guaranteed a spot in the semi-finals.

The second draw sparked a frenzy in the English media: "Chelsea!"

When "Arsenal" was announced, a BBC reporter blurted out, "It's the London derby again!"

Arsenal have defeated Chelsea three times this season in the league and FA Cup, with the scoreline being 2-1 in each match.

Abramovich's face instantly darkened, while Ranieri touched his graying temples, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes.

On the other side, Wenger paused for a moment, then turned to look meaningfully at the UEFA officials on the stage.

That look seemed to say, "Could this have been arranged by you on purpose?"

In the area where teams hadn't yet been drawn, Deschamps leaned close to Roy's ear and asked, "Who do you hope we'll draw?"

Roy looked at the big screen and replied with a smile, "Of course it's Deportivo La Coruña."

He pointed to the names of Milan and Real Madrid, "Both of them are tough to beat."

The staff began preparing for the next draw, while English journalists were already discussing the various highlights of this London derby.

As the third ball was played, even the Spanish newspaper Marca became serious: "Real Madrid!"

In their apartment in Monaco, Morientes and his wife Victoria were glued to the television screen.

When he heard that Real Madrid had been drawn, Morientes suddenly sat up straight.

"Their opponent is..."

The host's voice on TV seemed to freeze the air in the room.

The camera slowly panned across the Monaco seats. Jiu Yong nudged Roy next to him with his elbow, his tone teasing yet tinged with guilt: "Hey, it's not like we were drawn by chance, is it?"

Upon hearing this, Roy's face broke into a bright smile.

UEFA's broadcast director keenly captured this exciting moment and immediately instructed the cameraman to zoom in.

In a five-second close-up shot, Roy's face filled the entire television screen:
He had a sharply defined face, with deep-set eyes beneath thick, dark eyebrows, a high nose bridge, and a slight smile at the corners of his mouth.

"Isn't that exactly what you wanted?"

Roy turned to Giuly and said, "Playing at the Bernabéu is every player's dream."

Deschamps remained silent, his eyes fixed on the draw table.

But Roy's smile seemed to infect the entire Monaco delegation, and the tense atmosphere immediately eased a lot.

Just then, a UEFA official slowly unfolded the ball: "Monaco!"

Roy turned to Deschamps and said, "Coach, it looks like we're going to Madrid."

The camera freezes on this moment, the young French prodigy's face filled with anticipation, as if he can already see himself galloping across the Bernabéu Stadium.

Victoria could feel the muscles in her husband's arms were taut.

She knew all too well what this meant; this was Morientes' former club, where he had played for eight years and where his career had reached its zenith.

Florentino shifted his gaze from the draw table to the seats of the Monaco delegation.

Passing through the noisy venue, my gaze fell upon that young figure. Roy was chatting and laughing with his teammate Giuly, his face radiating youthful energy.

His brow furrowed slightly, and his eyes revealed a complex emotion:

On one hand, he looked at the young man with admiration. Roy had already scored 10 goals in the Champions League this season and was the top scorer in the competition so far.

His skillful movement and accurate shooting in the penalty area are just like a young Raul; while his lightning-fast explosiveness and change of direction are reminiscent of Ronaldo at his peak.

Even more frightening are the statistics—Roy's Ligue 1 speed record of 38 km/h is even faster than the fastest record set by "the alien".

But on the other hand, worries gradually surfaced in my mind.

Real Madrid's defense has been unstable this season, with the Carlos-Helguera partnership being repeatedly breached by speedy forwards.

And Roy is precisely one of the fastest and most technically complete strikers in European football today.

At that moment, Florentino suddenly remembered something, and his brows furrowed even more.

Monaco's starting center forward is Morientes.

One is a former player on loan, and the other is a former youth academy graduate who has left. These two strikers, who know Real Madrid best and are most eager to prove themselves, are about to return to the Bernabéu together.

The final matchup is a foregone conclusion: "AC Milan vs. Deportivo La Coruña".

Italian journalists whispered among themselves, saying that Deportivo La Coruña, who had been thrashed 4-0 by AC Milan at home in the 2002/03 Champions League group stage, now finally had a chance for revenge.

Milan coach Carlo Ancelotti, facing the Spanish team that had eliminated Juventus, had a complex emotion flash in his eyes.

The semi-final matchups appeared on the big screen:

Upper bracket: Real Madrid/Monaco vs Chelsea/Arsenal

Lower bracket: Porto/Lyon vs AC Milan/Deportivo La Coruña

Upon seeing this result, a murmur of discussion immediately arose at the scene.

The Premier League and La Liga giants have been drawn into the same half of the bracket, meaning they must face off early.

The members of the Milan delegation exchanged smiles, realizing that the lower half of the draw was clearly more balanced.

Italian journalists immediately surrounded Ancelotti: "Carlo, what do you think of this matchup?"

Ancelotti maintained a gentle smile: "Every team that makes it to the quarterfinals should not be underestimated."

But the fine lines at the corners of his eyes still betrayed his inner satisfaction.

On the other side, Wenger and Mourinho both looked serious.

They knew that to reach the finals, they had to get past the powerhouses first.

After the draw ceremony, Real Madrid general manager Butragueño was surrounded by reporters.

The former "vulture" responded to the question about Morientes in a calm tone:

"Moro (Morientes' nickname) played for Real Madrid for eight years, he is a true white-clad warrior. Although we are now on opposing sides, we will never ask him to avoid the game."

Butragueño straightened his tie and continued, "It's definitely not easy playing against my former club, but that's professional football. I believe he will give his all for Monaco, and that's how we respect him."

He paused, a wry smile playing on his lips. "But to be honest, I'm more worried about that kid, Roy. I noticed him back in the youth academy, and seeing him play so well now is both gratifying and a headache." The reporters chuckled, and Butragueño shook his head with a smile. "That kid's frighteningly fast. Last week I was joking with Carlos that it was a good thing we didn't have to face him in the league. Turns out... now we can only hope our defenders get extra training."

"But that's the charm of the Champions League; the best players should prove themselves on the biggest stage. Whether it's Morientes or Roy, we will approach it with the utmost professionalism."

L'Équipe reporter Duruk couldn't wait to call Roy's agent, Migliaccio.

Miriam's signature hearty laughter came from the other end of the phone: "Vincent, you're always the first. Roy just happened to want to say something too."

"Great!"

Drucker's voice trembled slightly with excitement, "How about the arrangement?"

“Nyon,” Miliacho said readily. “The Lakeside Cafe next to UEFA headquarters, Roy likes the atmosphere there. See you in half an hour?”

"no problem!"

When Duruk hung up the phone, his face was flushed with excitement.

He frantically packed up his interview equipment, nearly knocking over his colleague next to him.

This location is perfect.

The café's lakeside terrace faces the UEFA headquarters' Champions League trophy display hall, and the gleaming Big Ears trophy can be seen in the distance through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

As I passed through the press hall, several colleagues cast questioning glances my way.

Duluk tried to remain calm, but his pace quickened.

He knew that interviewing Roy, who was about to face Real Madrid, at such a symbolic location, would inevitably make the photos and conversation the front page of L'Équipe tomorrow.

Drucker sat in a corner of the lakeside café, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.

Ten minutes later, Roy pushed open the door and entered.

In the chilly March weather of Nyon, he changed out of his formal attire for the UEFA draw ceremony and into more comfortable casual wear: a dark gray wool turtleneck sweater, a light black windproof jacket, and dark jeans.

This outfit not only warded off the chill of the lakeside city but also exuded a touch of casual elegance.

The two stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

Roy suddenly smiled, and Drucker pushed a cup of coffee in front of him.

"How's your battle axe sharpening coming along?"

The reporter asked, his eyes fixed on the young man's expression.

Roy raised an eyebrow: "We just taught the Germans a lesson."

He picked up his coffee and took a sip, the rim of the cup obscuring the smile on his lips.

Duruk slowly began, "Your opponent in the semi-finals is Real Madrid. Hmm, as a special player, do you think the Bernabéu fans will greet you with boos or applause?"

Roy stirred his coffee gently, his expression calm: "I don't care what's happening in the stands. As a professional player, my attention is only on those eleven guys in white jerseys."

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple."

"Fans might boo me today, or applaud me tomorrow, but the final score is what matters most. That's what we players really need to care about."

He looked directly at Duluk: "Ninety minutes from now, the scoreboard will tell the whole story."

Drucker frowned, clearly not satisfied with the overly professional answer.

He pressed further from a different angle: "If Real Madrid fans boo you, will you be disappointed?"

Roy smiled faintly: "There are two sounds that are most beautiful on the football field: the cheers of the fans and the silence after the final whistle."

"Fans have the right to express any emotion, whether it's booing or applause, it's all part of the game. But what really matters is always the score after 90 minutes."

"I used to wear the white jersey, and now I'm going back as the opponent. It's special, but also simple—it's just a game I need to win. If we ultimately take the victory, then any reaction from the opposing fans will only make this victory more memorable."

He looked directly at Duruk, his gaze firm but without sharpness: "The dignity of a professional player is not in the cheers of the fans, but in every performance where I give my all. So instead of worrying about how the fans will treat me, I should focus on how I will approach the game."

"After all, the most powerful response on the football field is always written with your feet."

Duruk: "When you step into the Bernabéu dressing room, do you remember that you were once a child there?"

Roy shook his head gently: "No. Rather than a child, he's more of a collaborator."

“A person’s career is like a journey, and at different stages you will walk hand in hand with different partners. Real Madrid’s youth training was an important stop on my path of growth, but it is now a page in the past.”

“In the world of football, every stage has its unique significance. The coaches and teammates during my youth training taught me a lot, and I will always be grateful for that experience. But now, my identity is very clear – as a Monaco player, I strive for victory.”

"Memories are precious, but a professional player must live in the present. When I walk into the Bernabéu dressing room, all I can think about is how to help my current team win. How to prove my former partners wrong in the most beautiful way possible."

He leaned back in his chair, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "Isn't that the greatest respect for football?"

Do you see yourself as an 'Avenger' or a 'prodigal son returning home'?

“I am Roy.”

His voice was calm: "The name itself is enough to command attention."

"If that's not enough, then add the title of 'the striker with the most goals in this year's Champions League so far'."

“The media likes to label people: ‘Avenger,’ ‘Prodigal Son,’ ‘Discarded Player,’” Roy shook his head. “But these are just stories. On the field, only one identity truly matters—the winner.”

"Would you be moved if you heard applause at the Bernabéu after scoring a goal?"

Roy raised an eyebrow.

The applause at the Bernabéu represents Real Madrid fans' respect and recognition of the opposing players' exceptional performance. At least a very few visiting players can make the demanding Real Madrid fans temporarily set aside their animosity and applaud this art of football that transcends personal biases.

This kind of applause is rare and precious, and is one of the highest levels of praise in the world of football.

获得过伯纳乌掌声的球员包括：巴萨的马拉多纳（1983年连过数人破门）、罗纳尔迪尼奥（2005年晃倒拉莫斯梅开二度）、伊涅斯塔（2015年传射建功）；其他俱乐部球员如托蒂（2016年）、皮耶罗（2008年梅开二度）、C罗（俱乐部传奇）等。

Key reasons include exceptional technical performance (Ronaldinho, Maradona), legendary status (Totti, Del Piero), national hero status (Iniesta), or failing to celebrate after turning against a former team (Morientes).

It's worth noting that only three Barcelona players received this honor (Messi was not among them), and Real Madrid fans rarely applaud their arch-rivals unless they are completely won over by their performance.
During this period, only Maradona received applause at the Bernabéu.

“I don’t know what this means?” Roy raised his eyebrows.

“If all of this happened, I would certainly feel better. After all, to have the Bernabéu applaud for you is like having the bull bow down for you in a bullring; it’s the most precious recognition.”

"Of course, I expect it to happen. But not for the applause itself, but to prove that even on the most demanding stage, I can make them put down their pride."

Duruk asked the final question: "Ten years from now, how would you like Real Madrid to remember you? A traitor, a legend, or 'the one who missed out'?"

After hearing the question, Roy tapped his coffee cup lightly with his fingers, making a crisp sound.

“Evaluation?” He shook his head slightly. “Everyone has their own standards. Fans may think I’m a traitor, the coaching staff may regret missing out on me, and the media may portray me as a legend—I have no interest in these emotional labels.”

"Ten years is a long time, and a lot can happen. I just hope that ten years from now, when people talk about me, they will only see the same match statistics: how many goals I scored and how many games I won. These numbers don't lie; they are the best proof. Maybe by then, I won't need anyone's evaluation anymore."

Drucker closed his notebook and said softly, "I'm writing a sports article about your experiences over the past year, and the first character was typed out that night on the banks of the Seine. Will the Bernabéu be the most brilliant part of it?"

Roy stood up, hands in his jacket pockets. "Vincent, I can't promise anything. But believe me, I care more about how good this article is than anyone else."

He suddenly grinned, revealing his signature, slightly roguish smile: "Okay, just kidding—"

"Actually, I also look forward to the applause from the Bernabéu fans."

(I haven't had much time these past couple of days. The match against Real Madrid was the climax of the early storyline, and I need to sort out the details carefully. I'm also experiencing some writer's block. Plus, my back is hurting.)

(End of this chapter)